Lacking the love to love

In a lot of ways, I dislike sexuality. It can drive decent people to abuse others. What is meant to be an expression of love may contort into a struggle for power and satisfaction that can mentally and physically scar someone deeply. That kind of shit doesn't just go away. Time doesn't heal that kind of pain.

Imagine what it would be like to love someone very much but be unable to make love with them sincerely and enjoy the spiritual and physical satisfaction that is meant to be the result of such a connection. Think about the regurgitated pain that would occur in such a situation: how it wouldn't just hurt you but your partner as well. All of the inhibitions of the previous abuse would be revived by an action which is meant to reinforce your affection for this other person. Sucks to consider, doesn't it? Does it make you uncomfortable?

I feel yester night's fuck for days to come.
Days to come, days to come, days to come.
I feel yestermorn's fuck later nights,
Sore nights, lonely nights, alone nights.
I interrogate my feelings beyond the pain.
I condemn myself for the dirt I can't shake.

I'm mentally retarded to take this so seriously.
To think so deeply, to fuck sincerely.
I haven't sinned so much to God than
To myself, bitterly, coherently, sincerely.
Fuck the world; I've fucked myself up.
Fuck the world; I'm no one to anyone.

A lazy day in the snowed-in-sunshine
I feel the pain.
A cool afternoon with a blue moon
I curse the ache.
A lonely night I'm coiled alone in bed
I cry myself to sleep.

Constantly,
Jarringly, forlornly...
The ache obscures everything.